This is a song about "Supply and demand"

Got them thugs with me, yeah, we about that business

President like "i demand that, and i demand this!"

But respect is more real, and ambition the key

So much dough i supply the bakery

Demand he send me back just so i can shit on your face,

Me and my family, my friends, nigga we ride for you always

Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing

I demand respect boy or girl ill force there head right so its twisting

It's too late, you ran ran out of your last supply

Man that eats me alive, roll the leaf and get high

Stepdad supply the weed, he the giver

Or something that you paid for

But now that we're free, let's be gone, you got me blazing high

This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/

I be the godly demi who wants moore supply

Never alone we 'bout to make the drums cry